The Darkness Rises
by MarieEri
Summary: The First Order, while wounded, is not defeated. They have not unleashed their most powerful weapon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I have always been a Star Wars fan from a family of Star Wars fans. I am honestly a bit surprised with myself that I have never posted the drabbles that I have already written in the Star Wars universe. With the arrival of The Force Awakens, I suppose I have no excuse now. Here's my alternative take on what happens next, with an intense focus on Rey and Kylo, who for me, were the most interesting characters in the whole movie. I was on the edge of my seat whenever they interacted.**

 **A side note, Rey's heritage is still very mysterious. I know the trailers hinted heavily at her being a Skywalker, but I find the simplest explanation of her visions revealed in the movie is that she is simply a force sensitive student/child who survived Kylo's destruction. I'll be addressing my take on her heritage in future chapters, but one thing I can confirm is that I'm** _ **not**_ **going to have Rey and Kylo related.**

 **I own nothing of Star Wars, I just enjoy playing in the sandbox. Enjoy.**

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 **Outside the StarKiller base**

The frigid wind bit at Rey's face as she stared down at her fallen adversary. Luke Skywalker's lightsaber still hummed in her hand, casting a blue glow on the snow and on Kylo Ren's pained, bleeding face. Kylo's own fractured weapon lay useless and broken in the snowbank behind her. He was at her mercy. His blood stained the ground, the maroon stain growing by the moment, and even now, he looked up at her as a wounded animal might, with resignation and anger at its defeat.

Reflexively, Rey gave the lightsaber another threatening twirl. She could end him. He deserved no less. Her memories of her past were dim, and her interpretation of them even murkier, but this man did not deserve to live. He murdered Han Solo. He slaughtered at will on every planet he touched, and for what? A mission to find a man who might very well be myth, and who was certainly no threat to the First Order. It was a foolish, fruitless endeavor, the sign of an obsessed and addled mind incapable of seeing the present. And for this, she pitied him.

Whether Kylo Ren, his wounded arm pressed desperately against an even more wounded side, noticed the change in her demeanor, she would never know. While she spent only seconds in her jaded perusal of him, his gloved hand clenched with whatever dark force he could muster. His enemy was not attuned to it; she was too new, too baffled by her abilities to see his workings on the periphery. The ground rippled under her feet, but this was due to the planet's last shuttering breath before its inevitable demise. Rey adjusted her stance, the lightsaber blade still poised dangerously above him. He knew then that she might really kill him.

Kylo extended his arm, unleashing the force with a hoarse cry. Caught off guard, Rey flew back into a tree and collapsed. Too weak to enjoy his brief victory, Kylo leaned back into the icy snow, his vision blacking out. He released the pressure on his side wound, letting it bleed freely. His death was inevitable now, but at least it was not by a novice's hand.

He was unconscious by the time the First Order ship arrived. Stormtroopers ran down the platform and grabbed him roughly, dragging him without ceremony into the ship. Moments later, their intimidating, chrome-plated superior descended, taking one last glance at the battleground. Her readings were correct. Not five meters from where Kylo Ren had fallen, the First Order prisoner lay helpless in the snow. Captain Phasma pointed at the supine Rey and ordered her retrieval as well. The ground heaved aggressively under the stormtroopers' boots, but just as the trees and snow sank and disappeared into a dark abyss, the young woman was dropped on the platform and the ship sped off into the night. The planet and First Order weapon heaved and collapsed into itself, like a dying star, before exploding.

Captain Phasma observed Kylo Ren and the girl in her cold, perfunctory manner, ignoring the shaking under her feet from the explosion. Kylo Ren's injuries were serious, but treatable. While tempted to let the mercurial warrior die, she knew the Supreme Leader favored the him, and thus, she had to uphold the Supreme Leader's will.

"Take Kylo Ren to the infirmary," she ordered, and she was quickly obeyed. Next, she knelt and looked at the unconscious Rey, still gripping the lightsaber. The back of the girl's head was bloody, but the captain disregarded this injury as minor. More concerning, however, was the limp, wrenched position of the girl's lithe frame.

"This one's back is broken," the captain noted, her frown evident in her voice, "have her treated but not at the expense of Kylo Ren." She pried the lightsaber out of Rey's clenched hand.

Standing to her impressive height, the First Order captain waved over the two remaining stormtroopers. They dragged the prisoner to the infirmary with little regard to her condition, and just for a moment, the captain was thankful the girl was blissfully unaware. She took the lightsaber and walked down the hall to the bridge.


	2. Chapter 2

When Kylo Ren woke, he was in his austere quarters on his flagship, safe from the destruction of the StarKiller base. He frowned with distaste. He had welcomed death, and was ready for the blissful respite it offered. With a deep breath, he pulled himself up on his cot and took in his surroundings. His typical black attire was repaired and neatly folded on a small table opposite him, along with a tray of meager rations and, most importantly, his mask. He maneuvered his legs over the side and met the floor with a grimace. The cold steel grate pattern was jarring on his bare feet. He was weak from not using his muscles for days, and it took longer than he wanted to acclimate himself with standing again. Gingerly, he moved toward the waiting rations and devoured them quickly.

Based on his cursory inspection, the medical droids did their work well. The flesh on his left side was neatly repaired and no more than a pink scar the length of his hand. His arm and leg bore similar scars, though these were far more tender. The lightsaber, unlike the blaster, was a cruel weapon when it inflicted injuries. The blaster bolt was less precise, often inflicting a wider damage circumference, while the lightsaber cut deep and true.

Even as he chewed the tasteless rations, Kylo resisted the temptation to touch his last, and most obvious battle wound. Forehead to chin, and just narrowly missing his right eye, the girl had given him a shameful, permanent reminder of his weakness, and he hated her for it. Not that he was a vain man; he had always known that he did not possess his mother's noble features or his father's rugged looks. He had endured more than a few jabs from the other trainees about it, but he had always made them pay for their comments. Now he had one more gruesome reason to wear the mask.

None of the small quarters on the flagship had mirrors, and his was no different, despite his status. Grim, efficient and practical, the unspoken mantra of the First Order. Slowly, minding his healing injuries, Kylo dressed himself in his layered garments. He winced as he wrapped his middle. His torso was going to be weak; he would have to train hard to regain his former strength.

Kylo found his thoughts drifting back to the force sensitive girl as he strapped on his gauntlets, followed by his black gloves. The girl's flickering presence in the force had disappeared immediately after hitting the tree. He supposed he had made her pay too, and was surprised by the pang of regret it made him feel. She was untrained, and yet the most worthy adversary he'd faced in ages. He could all but taste the unchecked rage as she had taken up the lightsaber of her fallen friend, the traitorous stormtrooper. She attacked with a pure fury, making every attempt to destroy him to avenge the stormtrooper, and perhaps, Han Solo himself. Had Kylo not been able to throw her back while she gloated, she may have very well succeeded.

Kylo settled himself on the floor and closed his eyes. He hated meditation, had always hated it. It was so difficult to quiet his thoughts, to channel his feelings into stillness. But he would face the Supreme Leader soon, and he needed to be ready.

 _"Find the calm, Ben," whispered the voice he hated so much. His old teacher. "Listen," Skywalker had urged him. Ben, much too volatile for such an unseasoned instructor, had tried so hard to listen. There were so many whispers. He constantly felt the pull of something much darker, always on the cusp of his grasp. Had Anakin known this torment as well?_

 _His teacher's knowledge of Anakin's fall was fragmented at best. After all, Luke Skywalker had only learned of his true parentage shortly before the demise of Darth Vader. He neither wondered nor cared what turned the powerful Jedi into a Sith so many years earlier. Weakness, the easy path, those were always the routine answers Ben was given._

Kylo's eyelids snapped open. The ship shuttered, once, twice, and he knew they were being pulled into the hold of the much larger Resurgent-class Star Destroyer _Finalizer_. His flagship was not equipped to deal with long term space travel, and needed fresh supplies and new troops.

Meditation would have to wait.

{}{}{}{}{}

Like a dark prince stalking his castle after battle, Kylo Ren strode down the hallway of the Star Destroyer with disdain for everyone. Stormtroopers and officers alike shifted their path to accommodate his angry approach, lest they become victim to his infamous temper.

He moved without thinking, navigating the maze to the communications hall by memory. The door opened for him. Under the mask, he all but snarled. There was the weasel General Hux kneeling before the Supreme Leader Snoke, the two obviously in discourse for some time before his arrival.

Kylo approached and knelt. "Master," he spoke, keeping his voice even.

"The General tells me you were injured." It was stated as a fact. Kylo was well aware that Snoke cared nothing for his well being.

"Yes," he answered.

"What of the force-sensitive girl?"

There was a long pause. Kylo ached to rip the smug expression off the General's face, but instead, he kept his gaze trained penitently on the ground.

"She escaped and was killed."

Kylo forced his breathing to be even. Even though the hologram, he could feel Snoke's disgust.

"You are weak," Snoke admonished, "to be brought down by a few rebels, the map lost and the weapon destroyed."

The general stepped onto the platform next to him. "Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren is mistaken. We have the force-sensitive girl alive, and in custody."

Kylo's head snapped up. _What? She survived?! How did he not know?_

If possible, the twisted, haggard face of Snoke looked pleased. "Good. Bring her to me."

"Of course, Supreme Leader," General Hux answered, bowing. The hologram ended, and the next instant, Kylo was on his feet and looking down at the General.

"How convenient for you to keep this from me," Kylo hissed.

"You were recovering," General Hux retorted, his eyes narrowing, "and quite frankly, no one thought she would survive."

Kylo exited the room, his back robes flailing behind him as he made his way to the infirmary.

He did not know what to expect when he arrived, but certainly not this...

Very much alive, Rey was deathly pale under the white sheet, a monitor beeping softly behind her. While most people looked serene when asleep, she looked haunted. He could see her eyelids twitch. What was she dreaming of? He resisted the temptation to enter her mind.

"She is in an induced coma," the medical droid informed him. Kylo watched Rey's shallow breathing. No wonder he couldn't feel her presence in the force. There was only the barest pulse when he felt for it now.

"Why is she not the bacta tank?" he asked.

"The bacta tank is not effective with her injuries. Her back is broken."

His fist clenched. It was his fault, of course, when he had thrown her into the tree. She was valuable if she could be manipulated, but she was no good to him as a cripple.

"Wake her," Kylo commanded.

"It is not recommended."

He glared daggers at the droid, and several instruments on the metal surgical tray began to tremor with his anger.

"Yes, sir." The droid punched a few keys in the monitoring system. "It will take several hours, sir, for the drugs to wear off."

Kylo held back his frustration with a calming breath. "Contact me when she's awake."

"Yes, sir."

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 **A/N Should I continue? Let me know your thoughts-thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Fire!_

 _The smoke curled around her, stifling and thick. No matter where she ran, she couldn't escape it. Cries of agony and suffering all around her, hands pulling her away and bundling her up in a blanket. Of being carried, then deposited somewhere cold and dark. Muffled voices, all scared. Her stomach gnawed with hunger. Where was her mother? No one would answer her. The cargo hold was so dark, she couldn't see their faces..._

 _...And then it was so bright, so fast, it was painful. She had never been in a place so dry and hot. Words were exchanged with Unkar Plutt, the lumbering junk dealer, and then the ship left. She half expected the old freighter to circle around and come back, but up and up it climbed and then disappeared, leaving her behind._

Rey gasped and opened her eyes. Nothing would come into focus, but it was bright. Painfully bright.

She hated that dream. It spoke of memories that haunted her and questions of which she always denied the answer. But unlike in the dream, this air now wasn't saturated with smoke. Instead, it was thin, with a tint of ozone. Somewhere in the depths of her subconscious, she recalled it tasted like a ship's filtered air. Rey's heart beat thudded against her chest. She had a bad feeling about this...

The face of a cold medical droid entered her vision, still fuzzy on the edges. "Greetings," came its programmed speech. "You have suffered grievous injuries and are under the care of the First Order."

 _No! She had escaped..._

Rey bit back a moan as she shifted against the pillow. Slowly, events began to filter back to her. She _had_ escaped the clutches of Kylo Ren, only to pick up the lightsaber and duel him. She must have been wounded, though she had no recollection of it. Her mind felt frayed, as though something had caused it to unwind from the end.

"How are you feeling?" the monotone voiced droid asked. Absent of any sympathy, it watched her movements.

Truth be told, Rey felt as though she'd just been run over by a landcruiser. While her vision finally normalized, her eyes hurt from the brightness of the harsh, artificial lights and her arms felt like jelly. She tried to swallow.

"Terrible," she answered.

"I am sorry. I am not authorized to give you further painkillers."

 _Of course not_ , Rey thought, raising her head. She tugged weakly at the metal cuffs that locked her wrists to the bed frame, anger rising in her chest.

"Why am I captive?"

Lifeless diode panels looked back at her. "I am not authorized to discuss such matters."

Rey's eyes narrowed as she glared at the droid with unnerving concentration. " _You will release me immediately_ ," she ordered.

The droid looked befuddled, if that was possible, as it searched for potential responses in its databanks. Rey repeated her request, blackness skirting her vision again with the effort. The droid settled on repeating, "you have suffered grievous injuries and are under the care of the First Order."

Whatever power Rey had summoned to trick the stormtrooper into releasing her the first time was not going to work on a droid, much to her frustration.

She bit her lip. Kylo Ren was still unsuccessful in getting his map to Luke Skywalker. Either way, her life was worthless to them once he had what he wanted.

She began again.

"What are my injuries?" she asked, drawing as much civility as possible.

"Concussion," the droid answered coldly, "hypothermia. Spinal cord rupture between lumbar four and five vertebrae. Lower extremities non-functional until further repair."

Even as she heard it, Rey realized that somehow, she already knew. Horrified, she looked at her legs, hidden under the white sheet, and willed them to move.

 _Nothing._

Not even the slightest twinge.

Rey leaned back. Like all those in the midst of youth, she had not dreamed her body would betray her. She had survived much with nary a scratch. Her whole existence on Jakku was a calculated risk. Everyday she courted starvation, beatings, falls, or some other gruesome calamity that could result in her untimely demise. She was a survivor. Invincibility, however impractical, was the unspoken expectation. If it hadn't been, she would have never been so foolhardy as to combat the villain responsible for her fallen friends. Perhaps she felt the righteousness of her convictions would protect her from potential harm. _Perhaps this "force" was nothing more than a party trick_ , she thought angrily.

The young woman quickly assessed her dismal situation. She once again was prisoner of the First Order, and this time, paralyzed. Escape was unlikely, whereas torture and death were inevitable.

To make matters worse, just then, the door hissed opened, revealing the dark form of Kylo Ren.

She swore.

{}{}{}{}{}

"How unbecoming," Kylo chided, standing a meter away from the infirmary bed. He cut an imposing figure. Tall and swathed in black, somber robes, he movements were fluid. Rey didn't note any limp as he paced, and gathered that whatever his injuries, he was in far better shape than her after their lightsaber duel.

"What would you know?" she spat, her tone vitriol.

Even beneath his mask, she could sense his quirked lips. "More than a desert rat who picks up a lightsaber she knows nothing about."

She closed her eyes a moment, trying to summon the memory. It came back to her in flashes. With a sharp intake of breath, Rey looked at him, her eyes wide.

"I disarmed you."

It was a taunt as much as it was the truth. She saw his gloved hands fist, and knew she hit a nerve. "Your lightsaber," she asked, seeking to twist the dagger, "it's destroyed, isn't it?"

Kylo glared at her. The hapless medical droid smashed into the opposite wall, falling to the ground in a sparking heap.

"Your master will be most displeased with you," Rey concluded, ignoring the feat of indignation around her.

Quite suddenly, a deadly stillness returned to the room. Kylo steadied his thundering heartbeat. The girl was right. The Supreme Leader _would_ make him pay for his weakness, but not yet. Kylo could not have her mock him with impunity. He cocked his head at her, his hands held behind his back.

"I am told your back is broken."

She looked away for a moment. Finally, he hit a nerve. "So it would seem," she said quietly, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, Rey felt a squeeze on her middle, uncomfortable at first, and then tighter.

"What...what are you doing?" she gasped, powerless to do anything about the increasing pressure on her weaken body.

"I feel it," Kylo said, concentrating, "the break in the tissues." He pressed harder through the force, and was rewarded with her agonized scream.

"Stop, please!" Rey cried out, her body arched against the restraints. "Just kill me!"

A moment later, he released the pressure, and she collapsed back on the bed. It grated on him that even now, the girl was too noble to cry. She blinked and turned her head away from him. Kylo approached her bedside and placed a gloved hand on either side of her head. He leaned over, his cold mask inadvertently brushing against her ear. She shivered at the contact.

"Your death is no longer up to me," he told her, his voice low and menacing. His gloved hands moved from the sheets to pressing down her bare shoulders, hard.

Hearing the prisoner's tortured screams through the infirmary's thick doors, the stormtroopers outside moved away as fast as they could.

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 **A/N** Apparently, FFN decided to eat the reviews for this story. I can't access or see any of them, as I would normally love to respond to what you guys have to say. I hope this is a temporary issue. Has anyone experienced this before?


	4. Chapter 4

Hands held behind his back, the young First Order General stood on the bridge, looking out at the vastness of his domain. His eyes glittered with the prospect of meeting the Supreme Leader. Finally, the time had come. He had proven himself superior to the fool Kylo Ren, even though he possessed no command over the supposed mystical, invisible force. No, Hux commanded millions of tangible souls, all ready to die at his command for whatever cause he named. The Supreme Leader recognized his potential. These so called Knights of Ren were just flagrant relics of a bygone age. _His was the true power._

"General Hux, we are entering the _Atheanian_ system now," a nameless, faceless officer reported from her console.

"Good," he responded. Moments later, the destroyer dropped out of hyperspace, causing a slight shudder underneath his boots. Unacceptable. Hux frowned and approached the pilot's console. A lock of errant red hair fell onto his forehead, giving him the youthful appearance he hated so much. _Kylo had his silly intimidating mask, but as for himself, he only had his own image and fury to project fear in the hearts of others_. He swept the lock back into its slicked, severe position.

The pilot refused to meet the General's loathing gaze. Sweat beaded along the man's forehead. Hux had heard stories from his father how the Sith Lord Vader had strangled men for lesser offenses. At moments like these, Hux allowed himself to envy that ability, but even so, he would make sure the pilot was dealt with appropriately. A dark glance to the bridge commander and the man's fate was sealed. Hux left the bridge before the pilot's cries for mercy could reach his ears. He had other things that demanded his attention.

The First Order General had ordered the force-sensitive prisoner moved to the brig. She was still unconscious from Kylo Ren's meddling, and Hux sneered when he realized that the wan, emaciated creature before him could not respond to his inquiries. He would so much rather hear her confession from her own lips, but alas, she remained still on the floor of the cell were she was roughly deposited some hours earlier.

The small cell was kept cold by a vent in the ceiling running constant air flow. Attuned as she must have been to the miserable heat of her desert home planet, Hux allowed a quirked smile when he saw the prisoner reflexively shudder. Gone were sand-colored scraps she called clothes, replaced now by the more functional thin white fabric tunic and pants, designated for all First Order humanoid prisoners. Her feet were bare, and there was no blanket provided.

Her brunette hair might have been styled at one point, but he could no longer tell; it was a tangled mess around her face. Hux frowned. More the pity. If she was cleaned up, she might be reasonably appealing. Her breathing was quiet and even, and despite the purple and black smudges under her eyes, her skin was like porcelain. He longed to run his fingers along her smooth cheek, but stopped himself. _What was he thinking?!_ She was filth, a worthless member of the doomed Resistance.

 _Leave, you fool_ , he urged himself. He had garnered several surprised looks when he opted to question the prisoner himself. He had his minions to take care of such unsavory work. It was business for storm troopers, not an officer, and yet, he wanted to see this girl for himself. She remained, incredibly, a precious commodity for that terror Kylo Ren, fickle enforcer that he was. Hux simply wanted to see what all the fuss was about with this girl. Seeing her now, thin, pale and sickly, he was not impressed, but even so, he knelt to observe her more closely.

"Rumor has it," he began, licking his bottom lip, "that you nearly defeated a Knight of the Ren in combat." Naturally, he didn't expect her to answer, but it felt good to address her all the same. Conspiratorially, Hux lowered his voice. "Might I say, my dear, that we are all _very_ disappointed you failed in your task."

The prisoner's breathing was still steady, and emboldened, Hux moved a step closer. "The Supreme Leader says you are valuable, but," he mused, reaching out and stroking her bare arm with the back of his hand, "I think you hold all the worth of a spent Twi'lek whore."

He let the comment linger in the air, satisfied. Just then, impossibly, a vice-like grip caught his wrist. Horrified, General Hux looked down into the burning eyes of a _very_ awake Rey.

"You...but..." he stammered, still unable to process her actions.

Rey wrenched his arm back into an impossible angle, and he cried out for the guards. Stormtroopers entered the cell moments later, bewilderingly looking at the prisoner, then back to the captive General.

"Get her!" he ordered, though it came out as a whine.

It took two solid hits from the butt of the blaster to knock Rey out again. Free and gasping for air, the General Hux bolted from the cell, ignoring the concerned, " _Are you alright, sir_?" from the stormtrooper.

Fuming, the General stormed down the hall, cradling his arm and wrist. _The sooner this girl was dead, the better._

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Resistances members scurried like busy ants in the temporary headquarters they occupied. Despite the recent victory in destroying the Starkiller base and super-weapon, the mood was tense. Inventories of fighters, food and medical supplies, tech and remaining personnel were done with grim precision. The members, new and old, were used to constant motion. The New Order was too big and too powerful for the Resistance to operate in one location for more than a few weeks at a time. Like a battle-worn army, they packed and moved on to the next location at a moment's notice.

In the corner, removed from the chaos, sat the sparsely equipped medical cot, and lying on it, the man whispered to be a former stormtrooper. Spies were so commonplace that his presence was not accepted until the General herself helped treat his wounds. The aging princess was a ubiquitous force in the Resistance; she went where her aid was needed, and she always _knew_ _when_ it was needed. This ability baffled the younger members, but the older ones gave a knowing look.

General Leia Organa held the dark hand of Fin. He grimaced and blinked his eyes. "I feel terrible," he muttered, to no one in particular.

She smiled sadly. "I've heard that one before," she told him, and gave his hand a squeeze before settling down to business. "We're lucky Chewie found you before..." she couldn't bring herself to continue. So she settled on, "we've patched you up the best we can. Our healer says you'll have some scars, but that builds character."

Fin chuckled and then winced as the action sent a shock wave of pain through his back. Leia gave him a moment, her soft brown eyes intent on his face.

"Where's Rey?" Fin asked, easing himself up on the cot. He took an anxious look around the crowded room, but saw only the unfamiliar faces of the Resistance members hard at work.

To her credit, Leia held her gaze steady. "Fin," she began slowly, and with certainty, "Chewie didn't find Rey. _He just found you_."

Fin cried something unintelligible, and instinctively, Leia reached out and held him as he sobbed against her shoulder. "We are _so sorry_ for her loss," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Rey was strong. She will be missed."

Fin pulled back, wiping his eyes quickly with his hand. "He did it." He paused, before brokenly shouting, "he did it!" The whole room stopped for a moment to look at him before returning to their duties. Leia, for her part, maintained a quiet dignity. Fin needed solace. He needed a rock. He needed a cause.

Even so, the General was too smart not to know of whom Fin alluded to. It made her heart heavier. Before the healer had spoken to her, she recognized the lightsaber slashes on Fin's back when he was brought back to them, nearly dead. Only the years of training herself to hold her emotions in check under a strong, regal facade enabled her to endure the shame. _Her son_ , traitor and killer, had made his mark on yet another innocent.

"There is no good left in him," she admitted quietly, refocusing Fin with her words. "That's why, with your help, we will go after the First Order. We will destroy the twisted doctrine that he follows."

"And Kylo Ren?"

"I'll kill him myself before I see him harm another one of my people," she said, her eyes hardening. Fin believed her.

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 **A/N** Ewww isn't General Hux such a creep? That scene practically wrote itself. This chapter was mostly minor characters, I know, but the plot needs to move along with their help. If I focused just on Kylo and Rey it wouldn't work. They deserve more complexity than that.

It's been a rotten few days. I would love to hear your thoughts. They always cheer me up.


	5. Chapter 5

By this time, Rey was thoroughly tired of waking up to cruel overhead lights and a throbbing skull. She groaned and felt her head. Above her temple, her brunette hair was caked with dried blood, testament to the stormtrooper's brutal hit. Still, the look on that revolting First Order General's face when he realized that she was awake...Rey allowed herself to smile. She would do it again in a heartbeat.

She eased herself up, pleased to see that she was not handcuffed. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rub feeling back into her chilled limbs. Space was cold, and colder still for prisoners. The prison cell was barren steel panels bolted together, austere and functional. Little had changed, in fact, since the design of the previous prison cells used by the Empire, she realized. There was no electronic pad to be seen, so she supposed all the controls for the door were located on the outside.

A ration cube had been dumped in front of her, several feet away. Rey was too hungry to be prideful about it. She pulled herself over to it. Reaching out and grabbing the cube, she took a huge bite. It was tasteless and stale, but she hardly noticed, closing her eyes at the simple luxury of it. Despite her present circumstances, it was nice not to have to earn her meal.

When she swallowed the last of her rations, she looked down at her stricken lower limbs. Every muscle and bone in her torso and arms ached in a way she had never known possible, and yet she didn't feel the loss of movement in her legs as keenly as she thought she would. It was an odd phenomenon, to feel whole after so debilitating an injury, but there was a tangible peace that surrounded her. She lay back on the cold floor and closed her eyes, awash in the sensation. She quieted her mind, letting it move beyond the confines of her broken body—

 _"Are you certain?" came the distant voice. She knew the voice belonged to General Hux._

 _And the response, "yes, it's them. They've only just arrived. It would be a devastating blow." That shallow, mechanized breathing. Kylo Ren._

 _Their forms were far less clear than the voices, which had a wave-like quality of a mirage, and even this flickered in and out of her vision, but she knew with every fiber of her being that what she was seeing was real._

 _"Excellent," Hux told Kylo. "Now we can be done with the Resistance scum once and for all."_

Rey's eyes snapped open, and once again, her mind—along with her body—was trapped with her in the prison cell. Her hands dug into the floor. What had she just seen? It was like she was there...but wasn't. Did the conversation happen just now? In the past? Was it a vision of the future?

The flickering images were hauntingly similar to her unbidden reaction upon touching Luke Skywalker's lightsaber the first time. She felt something that she didn't want to acknowledge. Ignorance was the easy, attractive path. And yet the content of the conversation regarded the fate of her friends. It felt good to say the word. Friends. And she had to try to help them, whatever the cost.

It was much harder the second time to quiet her racing heartbeat and frantic thoughts. Rey squeezed her eyes closed and hissed in frustration after an hour of nothing but the cold of her cell. This "force" was impossible! She slapped the floor, her teeth clenched. Whatever Kylo Ren tapped into seemed far more tangible and powerful than the flimsy control she possessed.

" _Slow your breathing. Yes, that's it. Allow the force to flow through you."_

 _It was not her instruction; she had only overheard it once...long ago. Another nameless, faceless memory. Rey sank deeper into the void. Suddenly, she realized she was beyond the ship, beyond the thousands of crew moving about their duties. She didn't need them. Who did she need?_

 _She called out into the darkness. "Fin, please hear me. You are all in danger."_

 _Glimpses of her friend appeared, like a washed out image ahead of her. The image clarified; she saw him leaning over a battle projection, his face lined with worry. Where was the man who had such a beautiful smile, the one she was proud to call her friend? Blurred figures entered and exited her small view all around him._

 _"Fin, please!"_

 _It didn't matter. He couldn't hear her. But someone else looked up. Staring directly at her, General Organa stiffened._

 _Rey repeated her disembodied message. "Please, the First Order knows where you are. Leave now!" Rey wanted to linger, wanted to know that the General understood her, but she felt her consciousness being hauled back, and a coldness seep into her._

 _Clever girl_ , came the taunting whisper.

 _Get out of my head!_ Rey seethed, eyes open, and the connection severed.

Alone in his quarters, Kylo Ren jarred himself from his meditation. He had felt Rey's presence in the force the instant she reached out. She was like a lightning bolt, true and bright, and like a voyeur, he watched from afar until the end. Once again, he was left astounded at her achievements based only on innate feeling rather than training. A Jedi Master would struggle to reach across the galaxy in the way she had just attempted. Even more disturbing, he knew that Rey had witnessed a conversation between himself and General Hux that had not occurred yet.

She didn't know that, of course. Kylo opened his eyes and breathed deeply. No matter. The predicted future was tricky business, but the events she witnessed were inevitable. Scrambled coordinates to the Resistance base had been retrieved from a damaged x-wing droid and should be ready within the hour. In addition, the First Order destroyer could not arrive any faster to the Resistance base even with Rey's warning, had it have been understood at all.

The pursuit of the Resistance was only a minor delay before he would take a separate ship and complete his training with the Supreme Leader, but a vital one. He needed a victory, and the demise of the Resistance would reaffirm his place at the Snoke's side.

 _Unless he replaces you with...her_ , Kylo thought, fear creeping through him. Rey was powerful in the force, and she had gone undiscovered for so long already. Kylo was not convinced that the Supreme Leader's training methods would suffice on her; torture had its limitations, as he well knew. She needed to be guided, to be given the reassurance she so desperately sought. Snoke would not guide her; he would break her, then kill her.

Kylo had kept her alive thus far, and he would not have that be her fate. If Rey were to die, it would be at _his_ will, not for the cold amusement of Snoke.

Kylo winced as he stood. He was covered in sweat, and still very weak from his exertions over the last few days, but he had kept it well hidden. Physical weakness would be preyed upon. He glanced down at his bare stomach. The scar that had been healing so well from the blaster wound was now angry red and split open at the edges.

He walked stiffly into the showering unit in his quarters and relaxed into the hot steam as it hit his body. Diluted maroon blood drained out around his feet. He did not luxuriate long; once the sweat washed away, he stepped out and began dressing in fresh clothing. At once, Kylo was thankful for the thick black tunic and heavy belt. It would help hide his wounds from prying eyes. And to cover the grotesque scar on his face, he settled his mask into place. Instantly, he felt power flood though him.

{}{}{}{}{}

General Leia Organa reached for the edge of the table, her eyes wide. Fin saw her haunted expression and rushed to her side. With a familiarity she wasn't accustomed with, he gripped her shoulders and helped steady her.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, searching her face. The activity bustling around them slowed down, and within moments, all gazes focused in on them.

"I can't be sure," she murmured, trying to understand the images, the emotions. Leia drew in a breath, the authoritative guise settling on her once again.

"No, I _do_ know. I felt...a warning." She raised her chin and met the frightened gazes of the Resistance members. "The First Order knows we're here," she said firmly. "We need to go."

There was no argument. What the General demanded, the General received. The room and its occupants burst into action once more.

In the midst of all of it, Fin raised an eyebrow. "How to you know?" he questioned. Anyone else, and Leia would have been riled at the impertinence, but there was genuine confusion in his eyes.

"I felt something, Fin. Something...someone powerful, was trying to warn us."

He frowned. "It could be a trap."

She shook her head. "No, it didn't feel like that. I can't explain it...but the intentions were pure."

His firm expression softened. "Could it be Skywalker?"

Leia offered a sad smile upon hearing the name. Her brother had abandoned them, a painful reaction to his own failures. Hurt pricked at her. Did he know the direness of their situation? Or had he resigned himself to a life of solitude, like Ben Kenobi and Yoda before him?

"I don't know. But I hope so." Leia touched Fin's hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. Just help the others with the evacuation."

"I will. And I have a few ideas for when the First Order arrives."

"I'm glad you're on our side, Fin."


	6. Chapter 6

_Rey rappelled down the cavernous turbine compartment of the aging destroyer, the rope scratching and friction warming her hands despite her homemade gloves. A bag of scavenged parts was tied securely on her utility belt. It had taken hours of searching to come across even this meager reward, but it would be enough to feed her for the day, if Unkar Plutt was feeling generous._

 _Wind and sand particles whipped past her body as she sped downwards. It was the only time the heat didn't seem oppressive. It was the only time she felt free. Faster she went, trusting the strength of the rope and the litheness of her body. Two hundred meters from the floor, one hundred...sixty..._

 _Suddenly, the rope disappeared from her hands. She was falling. Truly falling. Arms spread, eyes wide, she waited for back-breaking impact—_

Rey sat up, heart pounding. The dream—and her fall—was hauntingly real, but she knew it had never happened.

She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and looked over at the by the prison cell door. Another ration cube awaited her, likely dropped off while she was asleep. Without thinking, she shifted onto her hands and knees and crawled toward it.

Rey paused in mid-motion. She had willed her legs to move, _and they did_. The realization came with a price; she promptly collapsed on her stomach. Rey's heart still thudded wildly against her chest. She shivered, feeling the chill of the steel floor on her legs through the thin fabric of her clothing.

Breathing hard, she bit her lip. _This couldn't be._ She wasn't supposed to be able to use her legs ever again, let alone have sensation in them. She was nearly resigned to her fate as a wretched invalid until the First Order disposed of her.

What then, of this second chance?

Tentatively, Rey flipped over onto her back and tried to move a toe. She was sore and weak, but her toe responded as it always had. Delighted, she wiggled all her toes from both feet. The how and why questions still pulsed through her mind, but she didn't want to dwell on unknowns. She had to get strong again. She had hope now.

Her muscles were atrophied from disuse, but after several moments, she willed herself into a shaky standing position. Despite having to brace herself with one hand against the wall, it felt odd and wonderful to stand on her feet again. Emboldened, Rey took a step—and landed backwards hard, the wind knocked out of her. She waited a second, listening for a stormtrooper to burst into her cell at the noise. Tense moments passed, but when no one appeared, Rey pushed herself up and tried again, this time with greater success.

Sweat soaked her clothing from her exertions, but it nothing to diminish the ghost of a smile on her face. _The First Order had not beaten her yet._

{}{}{}{}{}

Even if just for his own amusement, Kylo Ren allowed the conversation between himself and General Hux to play out as exactly as Rey had seen. To have Hux be an unwitting pawn was a pleasant feeling. If the Supreme Leader was not so enamored with the General, Kylo would have ended Hux's miserable existence years ago in the painful way he could contrive. The man showed blind allegiance to his cause. Kylo felt his loyalties were somewhat more flexible. Power was a transient thing, after all.

He stared out at into space. Threads of betrayal tore at his mind. General Hux intended the girl as gift to the Supreme Leader, assuring his position to rule for the foreseeable future. He was ignorant that Kylo had no intention of allowing that to happen. Rey was valuable in a way that Hux, a non-force user, could never respect or understand.

Kylo allowed himself an amused but hidden grin when he noted the sling around Hux's arm. He didn't ask what happened, and the General offered no explanation, but rumors circulated quickly that the girl had done it. Kylo only wished he could have witnessed the moment himself. It would have given him such enjoyment to hear Hux scream in agony.

"Kylo Ren, sir."

He turned slowly, standing eye to eye with the chrome stormtrooper, Captain Phasma.

"Yes, Captain?"

She nodded curtly and presented him with a lightsaber.

"I believe this belongs to you, sir."

He took it without saying anything. She nodded again left him alone. Thankful for the mask, Kylo gripped the handle of his grandfather's lightsaber. _So it was not lost after all_. It was destiny, that this weapon and rightful owner should be reunited. He had to resist the powerful urge to ignite it, just to bask in the serene azure glow. What would his grandfather say, knowing the weapon was in his possession now? It was the same blade that cut down scores of Jedi, that Anakin had carried when he took his oath to Palpatine, that his Uncle Luke had lost decades later during battle...

"Still prefer that archaic contraption to a good blaster?"

Kylo stiffened at Hux's inane comment. The General had crept up behind him, interrupting his musings. It was unbearably tempting to ignite the lightsaber and bury the blade in the General's chest. With more restraint than he had shown in ages, Kylo stepped past the General and silently exited the bridge. Insults came in many forms, and he knew Hux would recognize his.

{}{}{}{}{}

Her limbs ached in the best possible way. Allowing herself to rest, Rey lay on the floor, trying to sort out her emotions. She could not deny the sense of urgency that permeated her thoughts. Something was happening, and she would not survive it if she stayed locked in this room.

It was useless thinking she could trick another stormtrooper; no one had entered her cell since General Hux. There were no panels she could break into and override.

Rey turned onto her side and curled her legs toward her chest. It was damnably cold here.

Her eyes widened.

It was cold.

The vent.

She looked up, her excitement diminishing. It was easily a three meter tall ceiling. Even her dexterous past as a scavenger did not prepare her for such a vault, compounded by the fragility of her body right now. Still, what other option did she have?

Rey took a quick assessment of the barren room. There was nothing to stand on, and nothing to break off to help her reach. She was on her own.

But then again, she was used to that. Gritting her teeth, Rey focused her attention on the ceiling, her hand extended upwards.

 _Move,_ she willed the grate.

It did nothing.

She took a deep breath, and tried again. _Please_ , she thought, _move_. Nothing happened.

Sweat broke out anew on her forehead. She could feel the vibrations in the floor of stormtroopers marching down that hallway a wall away from her. They were preparing for an invasion. If her vision had been true, it was her friends that were at risk.

 _She was afraid for them._ She was angry about the loss of Han Solo, furious about the sadness she saw on Fin's face, and bitter about being trapped, useless and wounded, with the enemy.

Something akin to a growl ripped past her throat, and the vent's grate jolted aside with a loud clank. Rey stared at it in disbelief. It worked, and yet this didn't feel like the other times. She felt raw power surging through her rather than peace.

Holding onto that feeling, she made another shoving motion with her hand, causing the grate to move aside fully. Rey stood on shaky legs directly under the vent. Her body could not make the jump. She would need to channel something more.

 _My friends will suffer. I hate this place,_ she thought. _I hate the First Order_. That power, black and turbulent, flowed through her anew, and she jumped.

Her fingers just caught on the edge. Slowly, Rey pulled herself over into the vent overhead, and collapsed on the base of it. For a long moment she laid there, breathing hard. This space was even colder than her cell, and tight even for her lithe frame. She closed her eyes, trying to replay the layout of the decades old Empire destroyer she picked apart on Jakku. She knew enough of the layout would be the same. She could make it.

Anger might have helped her escape the cell, but calmness would get her though the maze of the destroyer. Rey pushed aside the dark feelings, and focused again on her escape.

She had to crawl through the claustrophobic space on her stomach, her elbows occasionally knocking into side of the panels. She paused, willing herself to be more quiet. Onwards she crawled, shifting direction sometimes by memory, other times by instinct.

Another squadron of stormtroopers passed by underneath her. Rey laid flat and held her breath. She didn't have much time. When she was certain the last footfalls had gone by, she crawled forward and made a sharp left. A grate was before her. Rey peered down it into the dark room below. It took a few seconds for her eyes to focus on the murky objects below, but she grinned. _Perfect, a supply room._

Latching her fingers around the metal, she pulled. It made a horrible scratching noise as the heavy metal protested, but after several painstaking tries, she eased it aside and dropped down.

Her landing was anything but graceful. Her back was tender and her legs were weak, but she was no worse for wear when she stiffly rose to her feet. Rey wasted no time feeling for the smooth armored plates and began to strap the pieces on. They were heavier than she expected and cumbersome, but she had no choice. Escape on this vessel alone would be nearly impossible without deception.

The room was quite dark, but her eyes had adjusted. She felt around at the back of the locker for the blaster. Seconds later, her fingers touched the muzzle. She was thankful that the First Order had the foresight to store each stormtrooper armor with a corresponding gun.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing. Quickly shoving the white helmet on, Rey exited and stepped into the hallway. She needed to go the landing bay, where all the other troops were headed.

"Stormtrooper!"

Rey stopped dead, panic seeping through her. Captain Phasma appeared from behind her, tall and menacing. Light refected off the stark chrome armor.

"What is your designation?" the Captain ordered.

Rey quickly glanced down at her wrist, where the numbers were imprinted. "FN-1985."

"Why aren't you with your squadron?"

"My blaster was scorched. I needed a replacement," Rey answered quickly, surprised at how different her voice sounded through the helmet's audio.

The Captain glared at her. "You are moving very slow. I expect you to join your squadron immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Rey couldn't escape quick enough. Feeling the penetrating gaze of the Captain, she prayed that she was making the right directional choices as she navigated the rest of her route. Ahead of her, a group of stormtroopers marched in rows of three. She fell into line with them at the rear and entered the massive hanger.

Tie fighters, landing vessels, and stormtroopers—thousands of them—were amassed in the expansive room. This was no invasion force—this was an army designed for annihilation. Rey stood tall at attention and held her weapon like the others did. General Hux walked out onto a platform above, his fist raised.

"Today, the First Order will destroy the last shreds of the worthless Resistance. Be proud that you have lived to see this day. If you are strong, if you are worthy, you will live to see a greater tomorrow!"

There was a collective affirmative chant that echoed in the room, and then the stormtroopers filed into the ships with precision. Heart pounding, Rey had no choice but to turn and march with her group onto a black ship.

 _Something is wrong._ Rey gripped the blaster tighter and tried to remain inconspicuous. The ship could accommodate several dozen of them, but even so, comfort was not on the minds of First Order, as she realized that she was still expected to stand shoulder to shoulder with the others. She stared straight ahead, willing the pilot to ignite the engines. She was _so close_ to escaping.

And then, in a swirl of heavy black robes, Kylo Ren walked lazily up the ship's ramp, Skywalker's lightsaber hanging from his belt. Rey closed her eyes, and held her breath as he approached.

 _I am nothing. I feel nothing. I am nothing. I feel nothing._

Rey repeated her mantra until she felt numb. Kylo Ren's helmet turned a minuscule degree in her direction, but his stride did not slow. The ship vibrated underneath them and the ramp closed. Another jolt, and she knew they were airborne.

* * *

A/N If you enjoyed this, please let me know. Motivation to write is hard to come by lately. Thanks! Hugs!


	7. Chapter 7

It was unusually still when the ramp lowered. The stormtroopers filed out, blasters raised. Rey's breath sounded harsh in her ears from helmet as she looked around her, trying to follow the tactics of the other stormtroopers. They fanned out cautiously, a few signalling forward with a hand gesture. Rey stayed at the back of the group and moved towards one of the cavern walls. Behind her, Kylo Ren descended the ramp casually. She could sense his menacing presence, like an angry specter lingering over her shoulder. Relief flooded through her when, in her periphery, she saw Kylo's tall, dark form turn and disappear down an adjacent tunnel. Like her, he seemed to be on an alternative mission.

The wet environment of the planet provided the damp, heavy air and swirls of dark green and brown moss that crept alone the moisture-slick stone floor. The cavern was immense, with side chambers and tunnels. An occasional hole in the ceiling of rock allowed beams of pale light to shine through. Had she not been in such a precarious situation, Rey would have enjoyed the sight.

There were obvious signs of activity: crates overturned, scuff marks on the ground from the dragging of heavy objects, and errant plasma burns on the walls from an engine repair. _Her friends had been here._ Rey's heart leapt. Perhaps she wasn't far behind.

Fragments of a shattered glass viewing screen crunched loudly under her boots. White helmets turned in unison to glare at her. Rey gripped her blaster and stared repentantly at the ground. She had to maintain focus.

She moved on the edge of the group for a few steps. The Resistance had been here, she had no doubt. Rey ducked around a stone wall of the abandoned base. Did they hear her message? She had no idea, but at least their escape was one less victory for the First Order.

She peered down the dark corridor before her. If the Resistance had any sense, they would hide their most valuable fighters away from view. She slowed her pace from the others and dropped back even further. Maybe she could find one fighter that had been scrapped and resurrect it?

"Stormtrooper, why are you not in position?" It was a commanding officer of some sort. He approached her with heavy strides that echoed in the cavern.

Rey straightened, casting a longing glance down the hallway. She turned slowly and tapped her earpiece in her helmet.

The other stormtrooper sighed through his mic. "Get back to the ship. Await further instructions."

Vulgarities in several languages hurled through her mind as Rey placidly moved after him. A step later, she halted.

 _ **No.**_

 _She had come this far._

"There could be Resistance hiding in these caverns, sir," she argued. "I need to verify."

She could feel the irritation coming off the superior stormtrooper in waves.

"Be quick about it," the officer relented, and walked off in the opposite direction.

Rey was certain she was being tracked now—if not visually, then by a signal produced in the stormtrooper suit. She turned another corner and dropped her blaster to the ground. Flipping open the panel on the wrist of her suit, she looked for a short range chip. Rey frowned. Sure enough, she could make out the dull blue glow hidden behind a thick bundle of wires. To remove it would require her to rip out the wiring first, which would destroy the life support in her suit. Not that it mattered on this planet—it clearly had a breathable atmosphere—but it would mean she would have to remain unmasked and risk discovery, or maintain anonymity with the mask and risk suffocation.

Her choice was easy. She ripped out the wiring and then the chip, crunching it into a hundred pieces under the heel of her boot. Grabbing the blaster again, she took a quick look over her shoulder and continued down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. Her stormtrooper helmet lay abandoned on the rock floor.

She did not go unseen.

{}{}{}{}{}

The halls proved a nightmarish maze of tunnels, some mined, others natural. Rey pressed herself against the damp wall and listened to the steady sound of water droplets hitting the rock floor below. The occasional shaft of light illuminated enough for her to decipher evidence of Resistance activity, but that had stopped some time ago. Her missing presence, signal or no signal, would surely be noticed by now.

Worse, she was lost.

Unbidden, her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears. Panic began to take hold. Her escape plan had been foolishly bold and relied heavily on luck. She didn't want to perish in this wet, dark place, and especially at the hands of the First Order. Rey closed her eyes, furiously trying to calm herself.

 _Where do I go? Lead me…_ she called out with mind. Her breathing and heartbeat slowed, and when she opened her eyes, the Resistance was around her. She knew instantly they weren't there; their images wavered like visions before, but it felt real. The battle scared helmets of the engineers, the tired, patched clothing, the clatter of repair instruments echoing when someone dropped them. A pilot garbed in an orange jumpsuit ran frantically past her. Rey followed, taking the same winding route as the woman, dodging people and droids as if they were really there. It was hard to keep up in the cumbersome stormtrooper suit, but she managed to keep the vision of the pilot just within sight.

The woman slowed and began to climb up a phantom x-wing fighter. She locked gazes with Rey, and the vision of her melted away, along with the fighter. Rey blinked and looked around. She stood in an even larger cavern than the one the First Order had landed in, and this one held _exactly_ what she needed.

Suddenly, the eerie quiet of the cavern was shattered by the echo of pounding footfalls.

{}{}{}{}{}

Kylo Ren stopped dead in his tracks, his cloak whipping around him. The ripple in the force was unmistakable. _The girl was here_. He was right. That same raw power, unchecked but pure, surged around her, lighting her like a beacon. Curiosity overrode his irritation at her escape from the destroyer, and he changed course to follow.

Captain Phasma's clipped voice came over his communications link in his helmet. "We are prepared to leave, sir. The Resistance is not here."

His long stride didn't waver for a second.

"Send the squadron immediately to my coordinates," he ordered, killing the link before she could argue it.

He couldn't see what Rey could see, but he had no doubt she was tapping into visions of the past. What other way could she move with such determined confidence, like she had been here before? By his estimation, the Resistance had fled within hours of the First Order's arrival; the girl would have never visited this place before.

Kylo blended in with the shadows, the turning his helmet away from the occasion beam of light to prevent a stray reflection off the inlay chrome design. His gloves and shoulders were soaked from staying close to the damp rock walls, and the hem of his sodden cloak slapped miserably against his boots. More exhausted than he was willing to admit, his fists tightened. The raw wound on his side ached with every step. The sooner he could leave this foul place, the better.

He felt Rey's presence long before he saw her stark white stormtrooper suit, a pillar of white against the brown and gray rock walls. She was standing in the center of a massive cavern, its ceiling easily fifty meters high and containing a fissure opening just enough for a good pilot to manage a fighter through. Light poured in, highlighting the moss and slime and pools of collected water. Her pale reflection wavered at her feet as she stared ahead. Something in the rear of the cavern clearly captivated her attention.

Kylo paused, not wanted to give her another opportunity for flight. He felt for his grandfather's lightsaber hanging at his belt. Something was amiss—didn't the girl sense it? Or was she blinded by her inexperience and hubris? He wanted to move closer, but was interrupted by the cacophony of heavy footfalls echoing around him. _As silent as a herd of Banthas_ , he thought with contempt, and stepped out of the darkness to meet the arriving stormtrooper squadron. Even so, his gaze never left the girl, who turned and finally saw them. Even from his distance, he could see her wide-eyed expression.

She bolted, Kylo moving after her almost instantaneously. He clenched his teeth under his mask, wishing he was recovered enough to use the force to freeze her in her tracks. Every step was agony. Somewhere in the distance, Captain Phasma ordered "blasters ready!", but the idiot troops were far from his attention.

 _ **Danger!**_

The whisper of the force, of instinct, of experience pulled him to a stop. Breathing hard through the helmet's respirator, he looked around.

There—the almost imperceptible blinking orange light of a charge hidden behind an outcropping of rock. And another behind the crate. He didn't need to see the others to know that they were surrounded by charges. Oblivious, Rey spun and fired a shot at the group of stormtroopers. _No. Stupid girl, they were doomed._

"Stop!" He cried out, whether to warn the troops or the girl, he didn't know. "It's a trap!"

It was too late. Before Phasma could halt the command, several stormtroopers fired retaliatory shoots. A stray blaster bolt hit the rock outcropping, and the sinister Resistance trap lying behind it. It was too close to the girl. She would never survive.

The Knight of the Ren let out pained scream in unison with the fearsome detonations around him. Time slowed. He stretched out his arm and summoned the girl to him with what little strength he had left. Sensors were blaring warnings in his helmet, and the oppressive heat scorched his back. In an instant, the body of Rey was thrown back and landed at his feet. Kylo collapsed over her, pelted by fire, rocks and exploding debris.

{}{}{}{}{}

 **A/N** I've had most of this written for months, but I finally got the time to work on it a bit more. Since I have already plotted this story out, I am going to maintain my timeline and ideas, despite the differences that may occur with the release of the latest film.

Let me know your thoughts! Hugs.


	8. Chapter 8

_"It's collapsing!-"_

The cry of the stormtrooper was cut off as a rock the size of a ship broke away and crushed him. The whole cavern had turned into hell. Fires raged while stones rained down on them from high above. Even the First Order landing cruisers were buried. With every explosion, the cracks in the wall widened, further destabilizing the abandoned base.

An alarm warning triggered in his helmet, shaking him back into reality. Kylo Ren slowly opened his eyes with a raspy gasp. The air in the cavern grew thick with poisonous fumes from the chemical fires that smoldered from the Resistance bombs. He had to leave or risk suffocation.

 _The girl._

He felt her crumpled body beneath him, so he shifted his weight onto his arms. She was unconscious. All the better, as he had no desire to fight. He leaned back onto his heels and quickly looked her over. The girl's dark hair was bloodied and matted from a superficial head wound, but the stormtrooper suit appeared to have stopped much of the potential blast damage to the rest of her body. The irony did not escape him.

Another explosion shook the ground, reminding him of the urgency of their plight. Where his human eyes failed, Kylo was grateful for the helmet's sensors. He looked up in the direction that Rey had been fleeing towards. Despite the thick smoke, the flickering optical sensor picked up just enough of the distant frame to spur him to his feet. Kylo picked the unconscious girl up and moved towards it, his steps painfully slow. Drops of crimson marked his path, and he fought to keep his grip on her. He could feel thick heat from the flames that licked at his cloak and boots as he walked.

When he arrived, he sneered. The girl's intended escape vehicle, and now his, was a retrofitted T-47 airspeeder, abandoned by the Resistance. Up close, he could see several of its hull plates were missing from the blasts, and even now, lacking a proper landing gear, it leaned precariously on one wing to support its bulk. The basest junk dealers would hesitate to take this ship as scrap.

He didn't detect any more bombs, and warily moved closer.

There was no ladder to ascend into the cockpit, so Kylo climbed onto the wing and dropped his burden into the rear-facing tail gunner seat. Rey slumped ungracefully against the window, but he could feel her presence in the force, steady and tranquil.

Far different from himself.

Pain ripped through his chest and back as Kylo vaulted weakly over the opposite windows and settled himself into the pilot's seat. The old ship groaned with the heavy addition. He reflexively pulled the cockpit closed and ripped off his oppressive helmet. He leaned back against the headrest, his dark hair soaked with sweat and plastered to his brow. His breath was no more than a strained, bloody wheeze. He needed to leave this place, and quickly.

The retrofitted airspeeder, a relic from the Empire days, groaned in protest as he stretched his legs out as far as they were allowed in the claustrophobic cockpit. The ship stank of mildew, and rust invaded even the inside panels. No wonder this heap was left behind. It would take all his piloting skill to keep this decrepit machine in the air, if it could fly at all.

Gloved fingers quickly punched the rusted controls. Kylo had played on more than a few of these ships as a boy, and was surprised how easily the motions came back to him.

Amazingly, the plasma engines ignited with a roar. The T-47s were normally surface ships, but he had to applaud the ingenuity of the Resistance engineer who added a lightspeed rigging and the patchwork of reinforced hull. Clearly, the Resistance had been desperate for airpower to outfit such a piece of junk.

Without an astromech droid, Kylo knew he would have to navigate. Outside the ship, the smoke was so thick it was like a black, ominous fog surrounding them. He closed his eyes and focused, his hands on the controls. The ship shuttered and lifted toward the fissure in the ceiling, climbing until it made it through. Relief flooded through him.

He paused a moment, deciding on their destination, then punched in the coordinates. The craft lifted higher into the sky and left the smoldering Resistance base behind.

Kylo Ren was almost certain of their demise as they cleared the upper atmosphere. His vision blacked in and out of consciousness. The ship vibrated so heavily his teeth rattled.

The massive _Finalizer_ hovered like a predator ahead of them, waiting for the kill. He knew they must have picked up the signal of the airspeeder by now. In fact, the bridge officers were probably hoping for a bit of sport by watching the Resistance junk ship splinter apart before them. And if they knew he was the pilot...Kylo could all but see Hux's exuberance at his untimely and humiliating demise.

The Knight of Ren refused to give that weasel the privilege, even as he took note of the obligatory TIE fighters flying in formation towards him. He didn't have much time left.

His gloved hand rested on the ramshackle switches.

Whether by his injuries or exhaustion, the present drifted away from him, and he was in another cockpit, just as ramshackle, but achingly familiar.

 _He was small enough that his feet dangled from the copilot seat. His father sat beside him. A band of Fabrian pirate ships hovered to their aft, weapons loaded. Their threats sounded over the intercom, and just then, the Falcon jolted in protest from the pirates' warning shot._

 _His mother was going to be furious._

 _"We're never going to make it," Ben argued, his dark eyes wide. In the seat behind them, Chewie growled something in the affirmative._

 _Ignoring the Wookiee, his father offered a wry, self-assured half grin. "Are you so sure?"_

 _Ben looked ahead, his finger on the hyperdrive switch._

 _"Punch it, kid."_

{}{}{}{}{}

"Sir, it's...gone."

General Hux stormed up to the technician's console of the _Finalizer_ , his arms held stiffly behind his back. His lip curled and his pale skin had gone several shades redder.

"What do you mean, _gone_?" he hissed, "wasn't it just an ancient Rebel B-Class airspeeder? Bits of it are still hovering out there!"

The young woman swallowed. "It jumped to lightspeed, sir."

The General scowled. How many of these indignities was he forced to suffer? If the First Order, with all its might, could not apprehend one miserable Resistance ship, what good were they?

"Sir?"

The same technician interrupted his poisonous doubts. "We are receiving a signal from planet side, sir. It's Captain Phasma."

Hux sighed. This had better be good news.

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Rey awoke to a fearsome headache and blue and orange flames rippling like a flag outside her window. Past that, a huge expanse of green and brown landscape. _Where was she?_ She blinked, coming to her senses. The Resistance logo was etched on the console in front of her. She nearly let out a whoop. They had found her!

The thrill vanished immediately when she realized the Resistance ship was crashing, _and fast_. Jerking awake, she looked at the controls before her.

"What is this thing?" she shouted, panic seeping into her desperately wiping the grime away from the panels. "Don't tell me this is an airspeeder!" Jakku's junkyards were littered with parts from these machines. They barely survived for any great length in performing their atmospheric jobs, and were certainly never designed to sustain space travel or reentry.

The ship shuttered around her. Rey found the override for the steering and pulled hard on the lever—it came out in her hands in a bundle of wires and sparks. She swore something that would make Unkar Plutt blush and looked desperately for any working control, but the rest were for weapons, and surely disconnected. _Where was the pilot?! Rey_ spun in her seat and looked back, hoping to catch a glimpse of a Resistance helmet peeking out from the other seat. Someone was there, she could feel it, but she couldn't suppress the sense of dread that lingered.

"Hey!" she yelled, on the hope that the comms still worked, "navigate or will we be incinerated in less than a minute!"

There was no response. The ship shook again and took a hard turn to starboard. Rey looked out the window and saw bits of the metal wing flying off. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying desperately to block out the scream of their free fall. She knew what the controls looked like from the pilot side. She saw them in her mind.

"Slow down," Rey whispered, sweat breaking out on her brow. The controls did nothing, and the ground loomed even closer outside the window.

" _Slow down_ ," she repeated, and the airspeeder vibrated heavily as it responded.

Rey knew it wasn't good enough; they were still going to crash. She was thrown forward as the nose of the ship plunged through trees, moving so quickly they were just green blurs outside the window, and then with a horrible splash—

The ship flipped over violently. Seconds or minutes could have passed—Rey had no way of knowing. Stunned, she lay sprawled on the intact glass ceiling, the seat above her. Slimy, black water crashed against the windows, growing deeper by the second. With a groan, Rey rolled and kicked at the rear window. It held. She tried again, harder this time without success.

"C'mon," she hissed, and gave it one last attempt. The window gave, and she dropped into the cool water. It was a shock of which she never could have been prepared. Water was a luxury on her native desert planet, and in her whole life, not once had she experienced the indulgence of a bath or pool.

Desperate to keep her head above the surface, her limbs flailed chaotically as she sputtered mouthfuls of the foul liquid. This was decidedly _not_ the way she wanted to experience swimming for the first time. The stormtrooper suit was taking on water and making her body sink like lead. Though sheer force of will, she pulled out of it and struggled to the muddy bank, gasping for air. She had never been so relieved to touch solid ground. Her thin white First Order prisoner garments were plastered to her shivering body. She was so cold—she wasn't sure she could will her body to move again.

 _ **Rey.**_

She looked up, eyes wide. She heard her name, as clearly as though someone had spoken it right next to her.

 _ **Go back**_.

Even before she forced her gaze back to the sinking ship, somehow, she knew what she would find. Her mind still had trouble processing the image. It was impossible. Though the cockpit was half submerged, she finally saw him, his eyes closed. Helpless. Kylo Ren. _He was the pilot?!_

Anger, betrayal, shock...she didn't know which emotion to pick. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and her fingers clawed the ground. She should let him drown and the universe would be well rid of him. She could have justice for Han. Justice for the misery and pain this maniac had inflicted upon countless individuals across the galaxy.

 _ **Rey.**_

The disembodied voice was softer this time, but just as persistent. Rey grit her teeth. _She wouldn't be like Kylo Ren. She wouldn't be..._

She grabbed a long vine and looped it around her wrist, then with a deep breath, dove back into the water. Her movements were clumsy, but she made progress. The cockpit was another half meter deeper into the water when she reached the ship. Rey touched the unlocking mechanism and yelped when her fingers came back burned. The metal was still scorching hot from reentry. Leaning back, she kicked on the glass.

It shattered, and water poured in ruthlessly. Rey couldn't see Kylo anymore, but she felt for his arm. She tried to take hold of it and pull. He was like dead weight.

She sputtered to the surface, took a breath, and plunged down again. She was blind in the water, relying only on touch. She felt all around her, struggling from one place to another. Suddenly, she felt his hand brush against hers. Rey grabbed it and without hesitation, kicked upwards with all her strength. One gasp at the surface and she was pulled down again, but the process repeated. The vine provided hold for the last few meters until her feet touched the bank. Rey grit her teeth as she gave one last mighty tug, and at last, Kylo's torso was free of the water. He was still unconscious, but alive. She released his hand and collapsed next to him. Steam hissed from the airspeeder as the cold water hit the last bits of hot metal, and then the ship disappeared unceremoniously beneath the surface.

Rey didn't know how long they just lay there, her cheek pressed against the cool mud. When she looked up, the thick tree canopy of vines and foliage made the shadows deep and the air thick to breathe. Her head pounded, and she wanted to rest, but she knew she couldn't.

"Kylo," she croaked, blinking at the dark form next to her. He made no response.

"Kylo!"

She pushed herself up and felt the skin of his scarred cheek. He was cold and clammy. She drew her fingers back. He wasn't dead yet, but it wouldn't be long if she didn't get them both warm and dry. She glanced down at his legs, still submerged under the water. He hadn't moved, even a fraction, on his own. Determined, Rey knelt behind his head and placed her hands under his armpits. She pulled, barely making any progress.

"You—" _Heave._ "Are so—" _Heave._ "Heavy!" she spat, finally moving him onto higher ground before she stepped away. While she had nothing but the filthy clothing that clung to her body, she reasoned that Kylo Ren would be better equipped. Taking no chances, Rey grabbed a heavy fallen branch from the ground and approached him again with narrowed eyes. She nudged open his cloak with her foot, her makeshift weapon raised to strike if needed, but he didn't stir.

She didn't know what she expected under the layers of heavy black fabric, but there was no supply satchel or even more peculiar, no weapons that she could find. Rey cursed the austere pragmatism of the First Order, though it could have been Kylo Ren's arrogance as well. Why carry burdensome supplies when on every mission one expects a short and efficient conquest?

She fell down at his head, thirsty, tired and weak. She didn't dare drink that water, and they had no transport, no shelter, no provisions of any kind. _She should have just let them crash at full speed_ , Rey thought, her mouth forming a thin line.

"Well," she said out loud, more to herself than to him, " _it can't get any worse, can it?_ "

Just then, a great booming sound caused Rey to jump up and strike a defensive pose. She breathed hard, senses on alert, waiting.

Water droplets hit her skin, finding their way through the trees until she couldn't escape the oncoming deluge. Despite everything, she laughed— _so this is what they called rain!_ She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. This water tasted cool and pure against her raw throat, unlike the brackish water of the swamp. Rey knelt by a fern taller than she was and redirected the moisture that gathered on its foliage into her mouth. She felt her strength returning with every greedy sip.

 _ **Rey, help him before it's too late.**_

She stopped in mid swallow, eyebrows knit. Thoroughly annoyed with the curious supernatural urging to ignore any self-preservation, she stood and glared around her. She saw nothing but the thick fauna surrounding them, bending and rocking from the heavy rain. And yet as certain as she'd been of anything, Rey knew she wasn't alone. It was as disconcerting as it was comforting.

"Why?" she called out, her voice nearly lost in the heavy rainfall, "haven't I done enough?"

She didn't get a reply, but she didn't expect one either. With resignation, Rey turned back to the deathly still Knight of Ren. One arm was crossed over his chest, the other outstretched on the ground where she dropped it. For the first time, she got a good look at him. It was still unnerving to see the human face rather than the mask. Rain clung to the planes of his forehead and nose, on the end of his long black eyelashes, along his full bottom lip. The circles under his eyes were dark, and the lightsaber gash running the span of his cheek and neck was pink and barely healed. Her perusal shifted lower. Diluted red droplets fell from the gloved fingertips of his hand resting on his chest.

Cautiously, Rey knelt next to him, every instinct on high alarm. Her makeshift stick weapon was within easy reach. Kylo Ren was lethal and well-trained in the force, and she wasn't going to trust him for a second, even in this state.

Biting her lip, she reached for his hand and pushed it aside, her gaze darting back up to his face. She half expected for those eyelids to flutter, to find herself staring into a dark abyss, but there was no register of her touch at all. Emboldened, she looked back down. She knew what she had to do, and it repulsed her. Gritting her teeth, Rey reached for his heavy belt. The clip that would have held a lightsaber was torn away, indicating that he lost his weapon in the crash, or perhaps earlier. It brought her little comfort as she ran her hands along the leather side of the belt until she found the latch to remove it. With a harder tug than she needed, it came off and she tossed it aside. Finding the hem of his tunic easily now, she awkwardly untied the knot holding the sides together. The black fabric fell apart, exposing his pallid chest.

Rey had seen more than enough gruesome injuries for a lifetime, but seeing this made her stomach turn. Every inch the body of a warrior, Kylo's defined torso was a map of scars, some pale with age, others pink and as fresh as the gash along his cheek. The bowcaster wound was easy to recognize, the flesh raw and rippled from his ribs until the uppermost parts of his hip. _He still fought both Finn and herself with such an injury._ Shame gnawed at her—no wonder she had been able to best him.

A thin trail of blood oozed slowly from his right bicep. Rey peered closer. The glint of a metal point was embedded in his skin, the tip just a few millimeters outside the flesh. The more she looked at it, the more dread filled her. She wasn't looking at the entrance wound— _she was looking at the exit._

Sitting back, the rain pelting in a steady rhythm around her, Rey put her head on her knees. _She didn't want to do this._ She wasn't a healer, and her own injuries as a scavenger on Jakku were minor at best. Her thoughts turned darker. If their situation were reversed, would Kylo Ren come to her aid? Her very presence here made the answer elusive.

An indeterminable amount of time passed before she found the courage to remove the cloak and the rest of his shirt. She rolled Kylo over and looked hopelessly at his back. Here again was another testament to a harsh existence, many of the scars unlike anything she had ever seen. They hinted at a terrifying story, but the burn marks, the bruises—those were fresh. Over his left scapula, the metal shard protruded out, the metal as thick as her ring finger. It was larger on this side, and she was certain that if she pushed it through his body, she would surely kill him. Her rain slicked fingers could barely find purchase on the edge of the metal. She gave it a tug and promptly fell back hard on her backside, the shrapnel unmoved.

"See," Rey hissed, hitting the ground with her hand, "I tried!"

 _ **Do or do not.**_

She felt a wave of calm pour over her frustration, gentle and soothing. Breathing hard, Rey closed her eyes, extended her hand towards Kylo, palm facing him. Rain dripped down her fingertips, her eyelids, her tangled hair, then her body to the ground below. She was one with this strange place.

Rey visualized the offending piece. Fragmented images and sensations swept over her. She felt the foreign object ensnared in the tissues, the strength of the heart that still beat beneath it in a constant, slow rhythm. An ache formed in her chest, its intensity increasing until she gritted her teeth.

 _Please_ , she urged, calling upon the power she didn't understand. She felt the shrapnel shift within Kylo, the pain in her chest radiating outwards, doubling her over.

And then, impossibly, _it was in her hand_. Gasping, Rey threw the metal piece aside. The ache in her chest diminished, and once again, she and Kylo were alone. The rain beat around them, drowning out all other sounds.

"You're welcome," Rey said quietly.

{}{}{}{}{}

 **Resistance Base, CYTI-32**

She allowed herself only brief moments of sleep. To rest in the comfort of private quarters, safe from attack and with food in her belly, was a luxury many in the galaxy no longer had. Leia never forgot it.

She shifted onto her back, the blanket rustling with her movements. Opening her eyes, she looked at the dark ceiling. True, there were more internal reasons as well that caused her to shun resting. The dreams were nearly unbearable.

She had never taken issue that she was not as adept a force user as her brother, or even her father. Luke's patient but brief tutelage had opened her mind in a way that she could have never imagined possible when she was young, but she was left with an echo of awareness of the force rather than the impressive command that Luke had possessed. Still, even all these years later, if she tried, if she really focused…

Her brother was still out there, she was certain of it. He was self-condemned by his failure, and dismissed as a myth among all but the oldest members of the Resistance. Leia had long since given up on the idea that Luke would reappear and fight along side of her. His path was different now, and she had accepted it.

But the path her son walked on—Leia squeezed her eyes shut and felt her stomach turn in knots. His rejection of the Jedi teachings— _and of his family_ —still made her heartsick. She hadn't seen Ben in years, but she felt his presence, like a quiet heartbeat in her consciousness reminding her that he was alive. So often, he shut her out, preferring to walk alone in darkness, but she never gave up. _Not even after—_

A tear slipped down her cheek. After all his exploits, many illegal, foolhardy or just plain dangerous, that Han Solo had met his end by patricide was an unbearably cruel reality. Even worse, she had asked him to bring Ben back to her. Would he have risked open confrontation with the masked creature if not for her urging?

 _Of course he would have, you dolt,_ Leia told herself. Han loved their son as much as she did, and his grief at Ben's defection was as deep as her own.

Giving up on sleep, she sat up on the bed and reached for the glass of water on the table beside it. She was about to take a sip, and then with a cry, Leia doubled over. The glass crashed to the ground and shattered. There was a pain in her head, a nearly unbearable stabbing, that made her want to scream. Impossibly, a long disregarded lesson surfaced. " _Leia, accept the pain. Be calm_ ," Luke had told her once. Against every self-preservation instinct, she slowed her racing heartbeat, and took in a deep breath. The stabbing sensation didn't subside, but something else held her focus.

She stood in an ancient forest, surrounded by mist. It was quiet, _too quiet_. Where was she? Branches crunched, some faceless creature from high above her screamed in warning.

 _Someone—something-was coming._

Questions unanswered, Leia ran, pushing past vines, struggling to keep her footing. A swamp was to her left. She had somewhere to be—but couldn't place where. Instinct drove her forward. She frantically looked around. There was fear, pain— _Leia fought to stay with the vision_ —and then she saw _him_. Ben was lying unconscious on the ground, unmasked, his clothing scorched and torn. His hands dripped with blood. Leia dropped to her knees at his side, but her form was like vapor. She tried to move closer, but her legs moved like they had weights on them. She couldn't touch him, couldn't hold him. She choked back a sob and looked behind her. They were still in danger. What could she do?

Ben wasn't alone. The vision wavered as Leia struggled to focus. A wisp of white moved in the darkness. The image sharpened. She knew that face—the girl from Jakku. _Rey_. Leia didn't need a proclivity in the force to know that Rey wanted nothing to do with the First Order enforcer that lay helplessly before her. But he would surely die without her aid.

A mother's instinct took over. " _Rey, help him before it's too late,"_ Leia urged. Whether Rey could hear her words or not, she didn't know. Leia was ripped from the vision, and when she came back to her senses, she was on her hands and knees on the floor in her quarters, gasping. Slowly, the pain in her head dissipated.

"General! General! Are you all right?"

Her mind still cloudy, Leia nodded and allowed the guard to help her to her feet. He was young; a shock of black hair peeking out from underneath his helmet. His post outside her door was likely his first assignment. She frowned. He was too young to be fighting in a war like this.

"I heard you cry out—" he said, brown eyes large as he took in her bewildered appearance. In another breath, she straightened, pulling on her dignitary status like a glove.

"Thank you, I'm fine now."

"But your hands—"

She looked down. Glass shards from her fallen glass were embedded in the skin. Maroon droplets fell to the floor.

"I'll go to the medic myself. Thank you."

The guard did as he was commanded, but not without another troubled glance at the General as she left.

{}{}{}{}{}

Darkness. The weight of it was so complete and profound that Kylo wondered if this was what death was like. He sat cross legged on a glass-smooth obsidian surface, hands resting easily on his knees.

This place was calm. Lacking the mask, he breathed easily. He didn't need intimidation. He was without threat, without pain, and without obligation. He simply...was.

Somewhere far away, he felt the presence of the girl. She swore and kicked and splashed and pulled and fought. A whisper of a smile formed on his lips. _She was strong_. A scavenger from nowhere with the power to change everything. But in the stillness, he could feel the edges of her raw emotions. There was fear, loneliness, anger. And the thread that connected all of it— _hope_. The spirit of a fighter. But the girl was uncontrolled, and without control, she would never reach her potential. As a potter molds clay into beauty beneath his fingers, Kylo knew he could give her the guidance she so desperately sought.

But first, he had to rest. Even in this quiet place, his body was scarred, torn and abused. He hadn't had the time to properly heal after the girl had arrived on the _Finalizer_. So now, removed from the watchful gaze of Snoke and the snarl of Hux, he would wait.

 **A/N This is the last chapter of this story I will post on this site. For those who are interested in knowing what comes next, I will continue it on An Archive of Our Own, under the pen name Merryernest.**


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